


Stressed Beyond Belief

by galacticmistake



Series: The Tour Gone Wrong (Febuwhump 2021) [2]
Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, FebuWhump2021, Gen, Panic Attacks, Self-Harm, self harm tw
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 12:20:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29171004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/galacticmistake/pseuds/galacticmistake
Summary: The stresses of touring are already wearing on George, and he's not sure how much will be too far.(Febuwhump Day 2: "I can't take this anymore.")(Modern AU)
Relationships: George Harrison & Paul McCartney
Series: The Tour Gone Wrong (Febuwhump 2021) [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2139264
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	Stressed Beyond Belief

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: Self-harm, panic attacks

Overall, their first day in Boston went well. There were no major incidents, and everyone managed to get along.

The next day, however, was anything but smooth. 

The day started with a flight from Boston to Washington DC. Once they landed at DC, they had to rush into a 9am press conference. The conference finally ended at about 10am, which led everyone to rush to a fancy looking news building for an 11am interview with an advice columnist, where the boys basically just spent 30 minutes answering random people’s questions and giving advice that may or may not have been helpful. 

So yeah. A lot has happened in one day so far.

Luckily for everyone, they had a little bit of free time to grab a quick lunch and maybe rest for a bit before anything else had to be done.

As George sat on a park bench and sipped on a bottle of Pepsi, anyone walking in the area could clearly tell that he was stressed. But to him, this was the least of his worries. He still had a concert and another press conference to try and muster his way through.

“I don’t have the time to be stressed.” George thought to himself as he sipped his Pepsi.

Boy, was he wrong.

=====================================================================

Within the span of a few hours, the band found themselves backstage, getting ready for the concert. As George was fixing his tie, he felt this wave of panic rush onto him and in no time, his hands were shaking and he was struggling to catch his breath.

In a feeble attempt to stave this panic off, he tightly gripped the glass of ice water that sat next to a compact of powder foundation. When that failed, he just chugged the whole glass. That failed in even more spectacular and obvious fashion, and he found himself fishing for an excuse to leave the room.

“...I’m going to go and get another shirt.”

As soon as he said that, George quickly left the room. Yes, he did grab a new shirt and tie, but he wasn’t going back into the dressing room. 

In a blitz of adrenaline, he locked himself in a bathroom stall, pulled out the blade from a broken razor, and found himself dragging the blade across his ankle. Once the adrenaline wore off, he sluggishly wrapped quite a bit of toilet paper around the ankle before finally changing his shirt and tie and heading back towards the dressing room.

“What took you so long? We’re on in 20.” John asked.

George just sighed and buttoned up a vest.

=====================================================================

Luckily, the concert went over well. Everyone enjoyed the music, and the band played said music well.

The press conference after the concert also went over smoothly. George tried his best to stay diplomatic and answer everyone’s questions, and for his part, he succeeded at that front.

By the time everyone got back to the hotel, George couldn’t put up the front of being ok for much longer, so he locked himself in the bathroom of the hotel room. Once he realized that yes, now he had the time to be stressed about everything, it somehow became the best time to launch into a full panic attack. 

At some point during this panic episode, Paul had somehow unlocked the door from the outside, and had made his way inside the bathroom. Just as he was about to brush through his hair, something compelled him to pull back the shower curtain.

If one thing was for certain, he was not prepared in any sense to find George slicing up his legs with the blade from a broken razor.

George looked up and found Paul staring directly at him.

“...you weren’t supposed to see this.” George said shakily.

“Are you ok?” Paul asked.

Tears began to well up in George's eyes, and he set the blade down. 

“I can’t take this anymore. This whole being famous bullshit. I can’t fucking do it.”

At this point, George had completely broken down, and was crying pretty roughly.

“I get it.”

Paul sat down next to him, offering to listen to whatever was bugging him.

After a few seconds, something clicked in George’s mind.

“Oh, what the fuck am I doing? Breaking down on only day fucking 2. Only a weakling does that shit.”

“You’re not weak, you’re overwhelmed. There’s a stark difference, and it makes total fucking sense.”

“I was raised better than this.”

“No, I think your anxiety was just never accounted for. But it’s not wrong to have emotions like this. And you holding yourself back will only cause more damage in the future.”

“...you’re not my fucking therapist.” George said harshly after a minute.

“Don’t need to be to see when my best friend is hurting.”

“But John’s your best friend.”

“That may be true. But I knew you first.”

George couldn’t think of anything to say to refute that. 

The pair sat in silence for quite a while. Paul had a towel wrapped around George’s leg, and George was not objecting to this whatsoever. Normally, he wouldn’t have allowed himself to be taken care of, but with everything that happened today, he almost didn’t have a choice in the matter.

Eventually, exhaustion set in. George sluggishly unwrapped the towel from around his leg and stood up.

“I’m going to bed.”

“Ok. Good night, Hazza.”

“Night, Macca.”

A few minutes later, Paul left the bathroom to check on George. True to his word, George was passed out on top of the bed, sound asleep. 


End file.
